


This Wasn't In The Histories

by PepperF



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Dragonlance au, Gen, because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8083879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: "That's why I'm here. The poster, right? Damsels in distress, oppressed peasants in need of a champion, yadda yadda."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bethany for the edit!
> 
> This is a Dragonlance AU, because... I don't know, because my brain is weird, I guess. I've not read the books in about a thousand years. No knowledge of them is really necessary, just assume Generic Fantasy Universe.
> 
> Not a beginning.

The adventurers gathered for the first time at an inn.

Jeff was the second person to get there, and he hadn't been sure he was going to get involved. What made his decision was the blonde woman sitting at the table indicated on the poster as the meeting spot. In the low light of the solid tallow candle that stood at the center of the table, she was very attractive. He slid smoothly into the seat next to her, and gave her his best look, all twinkly blue eyes and crooked smile, the one that said, 'I'm a charming rogue, sleep with me'. "Hi there. Are you looking for an adventure?"

"Oh my god," she said. "Tell me this isn't a huge pickup scam."

"Not at all," he said, changing tack without hesitation. "That's why I'm here. The poster, right? Damsels in distress, oppressed peasants in need of a champion, yadda yadda."

She rolled her eyes.

"Can I get you a drink?" He raised his eyes to the plump woman heading towards them. "Yes, can we have two ales, please?"

The woman paused, and then continued on to find a seat at the table. "You want ales, the serving wench is over there," she said, pointing across the room.

Jeff winced, and the blonde snorted quietly. "Smooth," she said. "Very smooth."

"Sorry. May I get you a drink to apologize?"

The other woman gave him a narrow look, but finally gave a reluctant nod. Jeff waved the wench over, and ordered a round, carelessly throwing the girl a coin as though he had many more in his pocket. Maybe he should join the mission—whatever it was—anyway. His financial straits were getting pretty dire.

When the ales came, so did two other members of the party, from separate directions—a skinny young man in rather unlikely wizard robes, and a young woman in breeches. They greeted each other awkwardly, but no one offered a name, and Jeff sat back, waiting to see how it would play out before he made his next move. The adventuring party might turn out to be a dud, but he could still be in with a chance of a tumble with the blonde, if he played his cards right.

Two more men arrived—one old, one young—and as time ticked on, Jeff decided that was probably going to be it. No one else seemed to want to get things rolling, so he might as well, or they could be sitting there all night. When drinks for the final two had arrived, he stood up.

"Greetings," he said, with impressive gravitas. "It appears we are all gathered. My name is Sir Jeffrey."

"If you're a knight, where's your armor?"

He glared at the young woman in breeches. "It's at the blacksmith's, having a few dents knocked out." He looked down, and tried to summon a modest blush. "I had a… minor… altercation with a dragon."

"What kind of dragon? Because the only species that live within a hundred miles of here are swamp dragons, and they run away when someone says 'boo'."

"Normally, you would be correct," he said, and left the rest to their imaginations. They didn't need to know it was an altercation with the sign of the George and Dragon Inn, after a few too many ales. "Anyway, technically, I'm not a knight. I was one, but due to a slight disagreement about completion of training, I'm temporarily between gigs." He held up his hand as the annoying young woman opened her mouth again. "The ruling council said I'm still allowed to use the title until I re-qualify," he snapped. She closed her mouth.

"How about we go around and introduce ourselves?" Instead of turning to the blonde, who was clearly itching to give him a set-down, he turned to the second woman to arrive. "Would you care to start?"

She sat up slightly, seeming to appreciate the attention. "My name is Shirley," she said. "I own the local pie shop, and I don't wait tables. I'm interested in going on an adventure, so long as I can be back in time to see my boys. They're away at school at present, but will be back in the summer." Shirley turned to the young… wizard?

"I am Abed the Unique," he said. He looked around the table, but no one responded. "Are you impressed? I wasn't sure about the 'Unique' part. The people of my village called me something similar, but they meant it unkindly."

"It's an excellent name, Abed," said the blonde, in what Jeff privately thought was kind of a patronizing tone. "I am Britta Half-Elf," she said, proudly. "I inherited my mother's singing voice, and my father's people skills."

"Oh, your mother was an elf?" asked Jeff, feigning interest.

"No. The other way around."

There was a brief silence as they processed this. "Oh," said Shirley, dubiously. "That's nice?"

"Troy," said the dark-skinned young man. He waved at the older man. "I work for him. This is Pierce the Troll."

"Hey, I resent that," said Pierce. "I'm as human as you!"

"Not that kind of troll," explained Troy, wearily.

"Oh. Well, I guess I can accept that," said Pierce, gracefully. He turned to the final member of the group. "And this young lady?"

"I'm a boy!"

Everyone stared at her, and she huffed, bouncing slightly in annoyance.

"I worked so hard on this disguise! What gave it away?"

Jeff gave her a quick, involuntary once-over, and decided he wasn't touching the question with a ten-foot pike. "An adventurer's instincts are never wrong. What's your name?"

"Annie," she said, sulkily.

"Hey, don't I know you?" asked Troy. "Yeah, I do—you're Annie Witchhazel!"

Annie rolled her eyes. "Oh my _god_ , Troy. You seriously didn't recognize me?"

"You're in disguise!" he objected.

"Everyone else saw right through it! And we sat next to each other in school for three years! You borrowed my slate, and never returned it!"

"People!" Jeff held up his hands, and silence fell. "We're all here for an adventure, are we not?"

There was general nodding.

"So, Sir Jeffrey, what's the job?" asked Pierce.

Everyone looked at Jeff, who shrugged and sat down. "How should I know? I saw the 'help wanted' poster, just like you all did, I assume."

Troy frowned. "So, if you didn't place the ad... who did?"

There was a silence, as they all looked around the table.

"That was me," said Abed, at last, bursting the atmosphere of growing mystery and wonder. "I wanted to bring together a disparate group of people—"

"And half-elves."

"—to go on... an _adventure_." He splayed his hands, leaning forward to gaze impressively around the table.

There was a pause.

"Wait, that's it?" asked Jeff, in annoyance. "You just wanted to go on an adventure? That's all? No piles of treasure, no princess being held for ransom, no monarch grateful for freeing his kingdom from a terrible curse? No likelihood we'll get _paid_?"

Abed sat up. "I'm sure we can find something to do, now that we're together."

Jeff glared at Abed.

"Cool," said Troy. "I've always wanted to go on an adventure."

Abed pointed at him in acknowledgement.

"Will it take long?" asked Shirley. "It’s just that I have a business to run."

Pierce reached over, and would have patted her hand if she hadn't snatched it away quickly, glaring at him. "Fear not, fair maid," he said. "We'll have you home in time for tea, or my name's not Pierce the Trull." And he knocked over his brandy.

" _Troll_ ," corrected Troy.

"Oh? What did I say?" He mopped ineffectively at the liquid.

"Oh for goodness' sake," muttered Britta, reaching across the table to help.

\---

Some time later, they stood surveying the smoking ruins.

"Look at it this way, it could have gone worse," said Pierce, philosophically.

"How?" snapped Jeff. " _How_ could it have gone worse? We burned—!" He looked around swiftly, and dropped his voice. "We burned down like half the village!"

"Well, at least it wasn't _all_ of it."

"My pie shop survived."

"And Britta rescued that cat."

"I have an affinity with cats," said Britta, squeezing her bundled-up cloak, which meowed pitifully. "They're like elves."

"Yeah, they're both assholes," nodded Troy.

" _How the hell did this happen?_ "

" _Who started the fire?_ "

"Um," said Annie, eyeing the gathering crowd. "Guys, I think it might be time to leave?"

"Yes, right," said Jeff, briskly. "Get to the horses. Britta, leave the cat, it's probably someone's pet."

"But it's terrified! And look at the poor thing, it's just skin and bones, no loving owner—"

"Oh god, whatever, bring the damn cat, let's just get out of here before they figure out who's responsible."

And with that rallying cry – which would later turn out to be fairly typical – the group was formed, and an eternal bond began to be forged.


End file.
